


Δ strike the table

by Kingmaker (smooshkin)



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Human Revolution
Genre: Allegory, Anal, Aug Kink, Fingering, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Paternal Instinct, Praise, Service Top, Slow Build, but then also, daedalus aesthetic, prose, which is obligatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 15:26:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18672412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smooshkin/pseuds/Kingmaker
Summary: Trust building ...sex? It's more likely than you think. There's a lot happening in here. Fully revised and re-written from an old RP.If you just can't wait for me to revise the writing, you can find the raw, unedited collab seriesHere.





	Δ strike the table

**Author's Note:**

> Managing intimacy during sex is the ultimate result of trust during pretty much your most vulnerable state ever. Intimacy doesn't need sex, but when it's present, it's more poignant than before. 
> 
> I love service dom stuff. It's OK_hand_emoji. You will probably remember some parts as transcribed from the old series from Black, with whom I co-wrote this stuff originally. We wanted to explore whether or not David could manage to pull off the whole healing sex concept and we agreed together that he passed with flying colours. Good job David.

  
Art is my own.

Adam hadn't shown any interest in getting to know David at first. As, David supposed, was perfectly proper.  
But, being himself, he could only impose his attention on him- as anyone who found themselves in Sarif's line of sight would attest- some less enthusiastically than others.

"If you ever need *anything*." He'd begin. "The door's open."

A promise David knew would statistically be relied upon by maybe 20% of anyone who ever had a problem. Still, he'd do all he could.

He hoped Jensen would be one of those, he remembers thinking as he watched him leave after his interview. David had already made up his mind to take him in by that point. Megan had only the highest praise for the kid and he knew her to be an opinion to take under serious advisement.

Even still... There remained ill portent. 

Which is why David's brows knit into a near-imperceptible frown at the man's back as he sauntered out of view from his office. After a moment, he rapped his synthetic fingers against the top of the desk in a non-sensical pattern.

He'd be standing from having shaken Jensen's hand. He straightened his posture and remained this way for moments.  
To have such an anomaly now securely within these walls felt like a good omen. Obviously, Adam found himself the subject of special attention.

David would stop by his office on the daily in the ensuing weeks. He'd take note of how, at first, the kid would be eager to please him. Putting his best foot forward and treating offers of joining boss for coffee to be orders of some kind.

David could have chuckled as it happened again. Jensen gets up in a near-hurry at the sight of him and David's hands raise palm down to gesticulate his relaxed intent.

"Easy-." He grins. "Busy? Coffee? Want me to bring you one this time?"  
"Ah-... No, boss..! Hang on." He'd answer, hurriedly trying to complete some task on his display. David could tell he was trying not to be rude, grin remaining lightly in place.

Adam turned toward him in a semi-awkward way that could only be endearing and, as he approached, David is keenly aware of the man's height.

He smiles as disarmingly as possible and, sensing the disruption he'd caused, crosses his arms and gives him a look.

"You sure?"  
"Yeah." 

David took his word for it and led the way.

It only took a few weeks more before Adam was comfortable enough to sometimes say no and that was a good thing, David thinks. We're more, uh... lackadaisical with people we're comfortable with.

Confidence bred from trust that making a decision for oneself wouldn't result in catastrophic meltdown.  
He wanted Adam to make his own decisions, then.

He wanted him to make his own decisions and yet he was terrified of one in service to a particular opinion. How would he broach this subject with him? Would he even agree to it? Ever agree to it?

David saw the opportunity and, like a man familiar with opportunity, he leaped on it. He remembers the adrenaline that fueled and mixed with his thoughts. Spurring him to go all the way and beyond. 

His body can take it.

Give him this, give him that. 

He ran his natural hand over Adam's catatonic face affectionately. A flicker of guilt. David was nothing if not self-aware enough to see that when his ideals clashed, one took precedent over the others. Sorry, son.

 

Δ . . .

 

Detroit was heaving. After the attack on Sarif Industries, the energy was static in the streets. They always recovered, but the people were always acutely in-tune with the action of the city that always moved. Forward. 

David Sarif would be sure of that. Tirelessly, day and night. Things would recover and, by his hand, be better for it.

He loved to sit and watch the city breath when the sun went down. Watch the rise and fall of it's sleepless motion- it's aureate blood in the streets below. Thoughtful. Pensive. So much to think about. He'd cross a leg over the other and lean onto the arm of the lounge in his office. The one on the right, closest the window.

His thoughts soared over the city. His staff. His security. Adam. Elegant brows furrowed the slightest bit as he allowed himself a dip in the past.

Adam didn't deserve what had happened to him. And he'd make sure he'd be better for it, too.On that note- he had set down his drink carefully on a coaster as he remembered words he'd heard over a lifetime ago.

A good leader needs to have a compass in his head and a bar of steel in his heart- No, that wasn't it.

True leadership is servant-hood. To lead people, walk behind them. That was it. He stood up, the city forgotten for the moment and he passes to his desk. That was the one.

"Athene, I'm heading out. Have a nice night, alright?" He said, seemingly to the air. 

"Goodnight, David. See you tomorrow."

He'd of slipped into a khaki coloured trench. Tailored for him, of course. Brought back from his last trip to London to see Hugh. Detroit had a habit of tearing up this time of night. He wasn't going home this time. He had to check on Adam. A weight in his chest coiled as he momentarily relives the emotions of the night it happened.

Having him out of the office had been... vaguely melancholy. Sarif had gone to drop a few gifts off on his desk over the last couple weeks but found that it wasn't quite enough to satiate him. He truly felt empty. Like this was failure.

But he wouldn't wait for that to fester. He'd of loosened his tie as he stepped out into the drizzle, pacing deliberately to the Chiron complex, (perhaps not the wisest decision) up to his man's unit and rapped on the door with his synthetic knuckle. 

He looked at his own feet, stomping gently to get off the last of the rain. He cleared his throat. Part of him was worried about him. The other knew he was just fine. He knew. Right? Time passes just a moment longer than he was comfortable and he was of half a mind to call Faridah with her extra key to Adam's door. 

He looks up suddenly as the door is parted just enough. Adam's near-pantherine silhouette breaking up the city lights visible in the den beyond. He can almost see the cigarette smoke ghost the ceiling in the amber light behind him.

He shifts his weight, direction uncertain. "Hey there, son..." He rumbles thoughtfully. Adam looked- how would he describe him? Haggard? Lost? David thought he seemed lost. Like a river you heard but couldn't see through the fog. David curls his hands over his own hips to ground himself in his uncertainty. 

"It's me- I. Well, sorry for bothering you on sick leave but they, uh-" 

David takes a breath. Out of his element. Not quite in, not quite out. The middle was something he had little experience in and the hallway was feeling too much like limbo for his liking.

"Yeah- they said I should check on you. Make sure everything's... coming together alright." He makes a face, half-lying. 

He found himself looking down between them and scans his eyes back up Adam's form. Well. Seeing him whole again was a bit of a success. His expression flickers after his pause and his arms drop from his sides. While Adam seemed whole at first glance, sometimes the missing pieces that broke the frame were below the surface. Behind the projection. David was familiar with the concept. Over a lifetime ago.

Gorgeous. Complete. But maybe Adam wasn't 'better' quite yet. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at him and shifted his weight.

"Can I come in?" He asks. The way he reached to unbutton his trench's breast was a good indication that this wasn't exactly a request.

Adam hesitates in a way David is sure is intentional to make him uneasy. Adam was a smart cookie. But he relents with a raspy 'Yeah' and steps aside.

As David stalks past with intent, leaning just a bit further into the apartment as he shrugs himself out of his Burberry and folds it at the neck. 

"Did you need something?" Clever Adam asks. David can sense his prickle and exchanges looks with him as he hangs his coat respectfully far from Adam's as he gives him an encouraging smile. He's not sure what he's looking for, but he'd know when he sees it.

"Do you like it here?" He's aware that an ex-cop like Adam would hate that he artfully dodges the question so as to remain in control. His tone is a little less excitable, though. Like the black burn of Adam's space left a charcoal mark on his mood. No less forward-looking or productive, but perhaps layered over with smoky glass. 

David had a stately presence that swept along with him as he charted his way through the open space of the apartment. It sailed and washed behind his feet, as if he was disturbing the low-lying energy of this place and- like a sleepy creature disturbed, it would half-heartedly swipe at his feet before going back to rest.

David stops by the nearest window to Detroit. He was enchanted by the view, as he usually was. 

Detroit looked different from Adam's window.

"It's quiet." Adam responds finally. Stubbornly.

And Adam himself had retreated back to the sofa. At least he was comfortable enough for that. Or angry. David breathes a heavy-but-silent sigh and presided himself closer. "Truth is, Adam- I was starting to worry about you." 

The other's shoulders move near imperceptibly and David thinks, with some hurt feelings, that it was a single laugh without energy behind it. He steps closer. 

"I just thought maybe you needed- I don't know- someone to remember you. You've fallen off the grid, Adam- I was worried. I was." He splays his hands in exasperation. "Tell me what ya need, son. If anything. Please?"

Adam looks up at him from his perch on the sofa and, for a moment, David finds himself anxious. Synthetic or not, Adam's eyes didn't lose their sharp edge. Full of spite if properly energetic. They exchange this look for a few uncomfortable beats before Adam seems to relent visibly and also turns his head forward. A micro expression that David recognized as some permission to move closer. 

So he circles him and lowers himself to the sofa.

 

"Worried." Adam only says in a judgmental tone.

"Of course-!" David's brows furrow; Though not angrily. And Adam continues.

"I feel terrible." 

 

Sarif stares at him, bewildered. It was as though he was an actor who's scene partner fed him something that wasn't on the script.

How to continue the scene? Improvise?

His eyes, though still on Adam, were not still. "Adam-.." His tone suddenly disapproving.

"Don't tell me you're- ah.." He breathes in. "Look I-.. I'm real sorry about this whole thing. There's gotta be something else I can-?" He wasn't sure. He could almost feel himself panic at the prospect of a problem un-fixable.

"Is it painful?" He leans his head in, brows raising. Maybe that was all it was. Just pain. "I can call the doc, get you somethin' else for that?" His tone softens in the final lilt as he catches himself and wrangles the selfish thoughts.

 

"It's not painful." Comes the answer.

 

Adam was burning a hole in the couch next to him. David wanted to cool him down but he was never any good at putting out fires like these. Really- just starting them. It might have been his tone just earlier.

"Tell me what you need. I can fix it."

Adam moves a leg closer to himself and the stillness of the space lets them both hear it's gentle sound. Music to David's ears.

 

“You can’t fix it,” Adam says quickly.  
"I can." David insists.  
“Stop trying. I’ll be fine.”  
"Adam-!" His voice rose with his hackles and he quickly corrects himself and pats down his nerves. "Damnit-- I can."

 

He scooched himself closer, daring. Adam's posture struck a chord with him. He occupied a space that screamed for protection and it made Sarif angry in some way. Something insistent and anxious. While Adam spoke, he got the impression of a man drowning. Though Adam was right in front of him- he felt a similar panic somewhere in the unfamiliar parts of his brain.

"I can fix it, you just gotta tell me what's wrong!" Why did he feel this sense of urgency? He wasn't content being unsure what exactly he was trying to fix, but the fog beckoned. David was no quitter.

Adam lifts his head to look at him with something akin to bewilderment. 

 

"Adam." He tries one last time.  
"You really don't understand, then?"

 

This made David uncomfortable. Adam's eyes were intent now, and full of spite. He swings himself from the sofa and picks up a glass from the table by their feet.

David feels guilty for a moment as he takes the opportunity to look him over quickly, despite everything. He was gorgeous. David could say he saw Adonis- limbs crafted from obsidian in the most perfect form.

A heavy pop of glass immediately rattles him from his thoughts and he refocuses suddenly on Adam's face; then the shattered glass in his curled fist. David leans back near-imperceptibly and his expression softens in surprise.

Adam makes a point of squeezing the remaining shards. Something about the movement made David find the sound it made sickening. He stares a moment longer before the abstract concept lays itself out for him in his brain.

He looks back at Adam as the other allows his hand to open slightly- glass shards to ping to the floor.

 

"Oh... Adam." Quieter now. He's consciously trying to move slowly. Danger was nearby. 

 

He keeps his eyes down as he straightens himself and moves to stand. He looks at the shards of glass on the floor, scattered and broken around Adam's synthetic footing. He felt the unfamiliar burn of guilt. Making decisions for other people was his job. How could that come back to tell him he might just have been wrong-? He wasn't. No, he wasn't wrong. Adam would have died. He chases away the brief anxiety of imagining the man's desk permanently empty.

"Come on." He dares to move in to the bristling, no-longer-sleeping beast. He felt guilty for feeling fear. That a sick part of his mind wondered for Adam's stability. Something he himself had shattered.

He's careful, but steps onto the glass and tries to grab a gentle hold of him. Around his arms and shoulders and pull him in. Make it safe again.

"Come here..." He says quietly, daring to reach for the clenched hand harbouring the shards and pull insistently at the synthetic fingers, his own synthetic arm trying to wrap Adam into his chest. He realizes a little too late that he should have reversed the roles of his hands here. But it was too late to change his mind when he feels Adam settle against him.

Adam says something incoherent.

Touch wasn't the easiest thing for David to provide this earnestly, but he could understand in a moment how important it was for Adam to feel real. 

 

David breathes. "It's alright-" He answers the non-question quickly.

 

He's still trying to pry the fingers open from around the glasses. He winces, knowing the tips of a few of his fingers were probably now bleeding. The nature of glass. So sharp you don't even know you're hurting until later. 

Trying to uncurl the hand took away from his desire to ensconce the man in a hug where his single arm was failing. His natural one joins it and begins to tug Adam more insistently.

"I get it. I do." He tries to assure him. And himself. 

The dream could easily be made into a nightmare. 

"Come here..." He echoes, fingers finding the soft hair at Adam's neck and he gives him a thoughtful squeeze. He just wanted to wrap him tight. Stop him from hurting himself.

"That's enough, now. Alright?" He keeps his hold on Adam and tries to pull. Pull him back down onto the sofa next to him and pull him in. He'd dare to press their heads together. 

"I want you to know somethin'. Adam. Sometimes shit happens, alright? You can scream. You can cry. But my dad always told me that rock bottom is the best place to start building." He would try to give Adam's shoulders a little sway

"You might not think so right now, but you're fucking beautiful. I know- It feels like everything got taken away." 

He doesn't mention her by name. Doesn't mention the pieces of Adam he took away. He furrows his brows and sighs.  
"I know it hurts like a bitch." 

He lets him go and looks him over. Dipping his head between them to meet his eyes as his hands squeeze insistently on his shoulders. Adam, he hoped, was listening, but all he says is 'not beautiful.' That this was what he fixated on at least gave David a hint on where to go. David has to hesitate. But he believed in it. Adam was beautiful and he'd just need to convince him of what a gift to the world he was. His world. What he brought to it. He couldn't let the masterpiece be miserable among the masterwork. 

He felt terrible.

"Are you kidding me-! Adam." He gives him a gentle handling, facing him towards him and presses his hands on either side of his face.

He grins, looking him over. "I'm not religious. But I've always heard that the only proof humanity has that god loves us is beauty" He pressed with one hand, urging Adam to turn his head as Sarif gives him a thorough appraisal.

He couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"If I can look at you and feel like I can finally understand what the fuck they're talking about, then it's got to be true." 

He looks down at his hands and his expression softens again. Somber.  
"Look, Adam. If god created man and can make him this beautiful-- man created the machine--"

He would take one of his hands in both of his own, carefully picking at the remaining shards of glass- the ones that weren't so eager to let go- cleaning his work. He turns his palm back over.

"Well- maybe it's all we can make, but there's beauty in this too, Adam."

He looks over the form of his natural hand. And Adam's. Blood and polycarbonate. What was the difference? Art imitates life and life imitates art. 

"Don't think this makes you anything else." He says, trying to meet his eyes- projecting- trying to make sure he was heard.

He can tell Adam was flushing. And flushing hard. The other had tried to look him in the eyes and only managed a moment of it. Sarif took delight in that small victory. He gives a short, amused breath through his nose before he tended to his hands.

He felt Adam finally begin to uncoil under his touch and he decided he was finally getting somewhere. He keeps a level gaze on Adam. Hands moving to give him an encouraging squeeze on the offending forearms. He traced his features, eyes flickering this way and that. He was entirely handsome-- Sarif decided that Adam suffered majestically.

It was dangerous for men of such quiet anguish to be left alone too long. They say the squeaky wheel is the one that gets oiled but Sarif understood that sometimes there were problems you couldn't see or hear. Cuts from glass you didn't see until later.

 

"Oh- Adam." He says with a sigh. And pauses to give time for thought.

"Alright." He lets him go, content to leave him with those thoughts for now. 

"I wish you'd of said something, son." He chides half-heartedly. "Come here." 

 

He stands, hooking a hand gingerly under Adam's arm and trying to hoist him off the couch. He'd dare to trace a hand quickly through his hair and give the nape of his neck a little squeeze and shake. Something he remembered always cheered him up.

"Listen, let's get you something to drink and have you off to bed, huh? You're getting behind on the beauty sleep there, gorgeous." He sneers playfully at him and swept his way to the kitchen. Damn kid needed some water. 

He paused at the threshold. More broken glass? He noticed it easily, acutely aware of it's appearance by now. He made a mental note to get someone to help him clean this up-- Though he... Supposed maybe he could..? Maybe he could clean this up. Get the poor kid some new standard doubles.

He sighed, brushing a bag of ground coffee aside to retrieve a glass and filled it exactly three quarters of the way from the faucet. He furrowed his brows, giving the glass a small squeeze of his own to contemplate the idea. He lingers on it for a moment longer than he needs to.

Maybe imagine the way Adam felt; And Sarif felt monstrous over it. He then understood a little more.

 

"Come here." He proffers the glass, holding it carefully along the bottom to give him plenty of room to take it.

"I want you to try and drink as much as you can." He frowns, but tries not to. Adam relents after a moment of stubbornness before he relents. And drinks barely a sip, unable to meet David's eyes. Though the contemplation there is enough to give David some comfort of his own.

Watches to make sure Adam drinks but also to comprehend him. Finding new meaning in his every movement, he wanted to learn what to say and how to move.

He grins reassuringly but he's not so sure.

 

"I want you to take care of yourself." He rumbles. "We- well- I need you... I want you to feel better, kid." He rubs a hand quickly over his face and frowns. Hands on his hips he gives Adam an expectant look-over. He pauses.

"Alright." He chirps, finally; extends an arm to curl around Adam's midsection, urging him to turn with him as he ushers him toward the bedroom.

"You might not want to but I can tell you're fatigued." He was already planning his method of egressing the apartment. Put Adam in bed, close the door, clean the glass, lock the door, leave the apartment, go home. 

And get Adam some more glasses.

 

He'd nudge him insistently into the bedroom and, seeing what a wreck it was, paused, brows knitting once more with concern. He wanted to make a disappointed noise but stopped himself. He learned not to do that earlier.

"Ah, jeez. Lemme-- Hang on." He reaches out to fix the sheet, tugging a corner down, kneeling slightly to tuck it in place. A sort of blunt snap under his shoe caused him to start and he stood again. More glass- Actually. Mirror glass. He automatically scans for more of it and stopped himself from worrying that Adam may step on it- he forgot that wouldn't necessarily be a problem. Not. Physically anyway.

He sees the faint- small pieces on the floor leading to the source, propped up against the wall on the floor. 

A very honestly broken mirror.  
A very heartfelt, sincerely broken mirror.

He knew it didn't fall. The cracks were radial and outspread. His heart broke slightly to match. By this point, he could guess why Adam felt like it's destruction was necessary. He understood. But it wouldn't do. How could he turn this around? He supposed he could take this away too- make sure he got a new one.

"Adam.." He reaches for it, by it's corner and carefully lifts, turning it counter-clockwise and lengthwise.

"Come here. It's alright, come here." He proffers his hands like he did earlier and reaches for his face. His synthetic fingers would gently go for his jaw while his others would try to urge him closer, tugging him emphatically nearer himself. 

Adam tenses, but obeys. David feels a pang of adoration at him for this.

There was a lot of damage here that needed fixing, Sarif realizes. He was angry- not at Adam- and he couldn't be angry at himself- but the spirit of fury ghosted his spine.

"Listen to me, Adam." He gives his jaw a little shake- a squeeze. "What do I gotta say to get this nonsense to stop?" He stares at him pointedly, brows raised. By god, if he had to give him a pythagorean rundown of his every facet and allure and feature then he would.

 

"I'll be fine."

 

Sarif gets his answer, but it was abstract. His expression flickers and he tilts his head to try and catch Adam's eyes when he looks away.

He feels a spike of compassionate irritation with him every time he'd subtly turn his face away when he chased him. He narrows his eyes and makes a rumbling sound at the back of his throat.

He tightens his grip on Adam and turns him again- this time to face the mirror. He arranges their feet- stands behind him- arranges his hand on his jaw and- this time, for his own good, forces him to look in the mirror.

 

"You are, because I'm gonna make sure you understand that nothing about you has changed." 

 

He meets Adam's eyes through his reflection from over his shoulder and makes the moment last before his eyes flicker over his features instead. His fingers press and nudge his head, this way and that.

 

"You are one of the most handsome damn creatures I've ever seen. Come on, look." He tilts his head as if to appreciate from another angle. When he speaks, he laughs good-naturedly. He knew he was being dramatic.

 

His lips curl fondly. "An angel, Adam. Do you really think that changed?" He turns to look at him out of the mirror, tracing the shape of his cheek. He pulls him against his chest in another hug and nudges him with his head. 

"That- doesn't change. You're still our Adam." He lets his hand leave his jaw and it curls over his shoulder instead. He watches him expectantly. Appreciate yourself, you bastard. What do I gotta do? He hooks his other arm under and around Adam's, fingers hooking to his shoulder and he rests his chin contemplatively on it.

He's looking at Adam through the sharded reflection again. He breathes once through his nose and gives him a little shake. 

 

"A work of art, Adam. You'd make Michaelangelo blush to carve you out of the marble."

 

In some way, David worries he's saying this to absolve himself of the guilt for putting Adam through this. Mostly indirectly. Mostly. But he couldn't deny himself the authentic desire to see Adam happy.

Maybe it works, because Adam turns in his arms to face him and wraps his own arms around David. He pulled in a sharp breath and releases it with a shaky sigh. He buries his head into David's shoulder, needy and flush against him.

David, for his part, was bewildered. He was on the verge of giving up. He couldn't think of anything else he could try; Anything else he knew to try. But Adam returned the hug and finally let him know he needed the attention.

He doesn't let up the embrace, but he stares blankly ahead, processing what he could call a victory. Did he figure out what to say? He can't help but grin self-consciously and press a hand to the back of Adam's head again, fingers curling in his hair.

"There we go." He croons, feeling himself bubbling with contentment at the simple thing. If Adam said he'd be fine one more time, maybe this time he could start to believe it. He grins at their reflection when he remembers the flush on Adam's face. That was a delight. Fucking delightful. "Handsome kid." He smirks.

He tucks Adam's head into his neck and gives him a sway, letting the moment last and drive the point through his thick skull. Sarif had never truly been aware of the presence lingering in the back of Adam's psyche. He existed on a canopy of sorts, where creatures called doubt, fear and loathing usually couldn't quite get a grip on the branches.

But he could discern that his Adam needed a hand.

He keeps his grip on Adam on takes a careful step around his legs, moving him to the near corner of the bed. He turns them and uses the hug as a steering mechanism to get him to sit on it. He pushes, trying to get him to lay down, hovering over him- almost doesn't want to let go quite yet either. He hums.

Furrowing his brows in thought, he tries to pull himself away but Adam seems to make that decision for him; Black arms locked over his shoulders. David, with a chuckle- dares to kiss him under his eye- Drags a hand through Adam's hair, thumb brushing his temple and pausing. He lingers.

 

"What are you doing?" He mutters warmly.  
"Thanks." Adam answers, hot against David's ear; Making him flush slightly.

 

David feels Adam's body finally unravel under him. He's burying his head into Adam's neck at the small 'thanks' and his hands slide out from under him. They hook gently to his ribs, natural one sliding up, exploratory, to feel Adam's shoulder- his arm. He simply loves the feel of it. Smooth with some catch- and artful. It was a good match.

David feels Adam's neck carefully with his lips, dark eyes closing as he's utterly enraptured. He hums thoughtfully. He can't quite tell if it's Adam or Adam and his art together that spurs him. They might have always been the same thing?

He definitely couldn't imagine anyone else to be the recipient of his... art- his attention. Both. Was he in love? Probably.

He finds himself feeling... Well- fuzzy! He had the self-control to stop himself from going further and tries to remove himself from over Adam. He- Can't. Adam isn't letting go.

In fact, he only tightens his grip and makes a muffled sound.

David almost, almost couldn't believe this. Or himself. He pauses his movement over Adam and has to be conscious over the fact that this was going to the one place he really didn't expect it to.

 

"Did you... Wanna--?"  
"Yeah."  
Oh. Jeez, okay.

"Then what's your pleasure?"  
This earns the lightest of grins.

 

Adam had finally allowed his arms to drop aimless to the bed and, no longer pressed right into David's neck, could be given a proper look over. His eyes were finally a bit more intent. A bit more present. The hint of a flush over his face and David feels something stirring within him. 

He reaches for those elegant wrists and uses them as an anchor to hoist himself further over him; up and onto the bed. He finishes the quickish movement with a kiss into the side of Adam's neck. He grins, pulling away just an inch or two to connect their foreheads.

David smells the whiskey.  
Adam might smell the vetiver cologne.

And he's dragging Adam's hands overhead, not content to let him be aimless. He was here to give him purpose. And... For now- his purpose would be to enjoy.

He connects them, passes one into the other, letting his prosthetic hand take them over by the wrists while the warmer of the two slid down- catching on Adam's shoulder before sliding down to his neck and jaw.

David turns his head to connect their lips. He doesn't expect Adam to return this. That's fine.

He rests his hand over his neck- though it's far from a threat. He almost... pets him. Careful as his fingers pass over bandage or reddened skin.  
"Good boy." He rumbles. Curling his fingers in favour of feeling the same things with the tops of them instead. He'd given Adam a few inches between them, but he was watching him attentively.

David wasn't shy about making it obvious- near hovering as he looks for everything. Anything. He only looks away to give Adam's front an appraisal, knuckles pressing into his skin, index passing over a nipple. This earns a sound that Adam tries to bite back.

His free hand moves up to curl a finger between his collar and neck and pull, just an inch or so of loosening the tie. He kinda needed the flexibility.

 

Then his eyes are back on Adam. "Do you keep anything in the bedroom?"  
“Top drawer, to the right.”

 

He grins, letting Adam's wrists go as he slides away; his hand dips, curling under Adam's body- fingers pressing insistently up- while his extended hand reaches for the drawer. As he moves, his hand passes under Adam's hip, hooking over the hem of his trousers and he's pulling them down as he leans away.

He loved the subtle change in pressure under his touch- as he passed from Adam to synthetic Adam. Gorgeous.

He turns his attention away to the nightstand for a few moments, but his fingers are curling sequentially under Adam's knee- bunching the fabric there until he had a solid handful of it and he pulls- in absolutely no hurry- until he frees one of the man's legs.

He finds what he's looking for, holding it between two fingers as one might a cigarette and returns. He leans against the leg he'd stolen and hugs it to himself as he returns to Adam. The leg is pinned between them, raising between them as he hovers over him again and reconnects his mouth to the reddened skin on his chest. He hums thoughtfully. 

He mumbles something into him- muffled by skin. Something like 'such a handsome kid' coloured caramel. 

Lifting himself fully onto the bed again, tucking his knees against Adam's hips and shifting to hook a forearm around the other leg- lifting that too. He grins softly at his poor Adam. He could see the misty-eyed, bleary look. But unless he made some indication to stop, he wouldn't.

His eyes flicker down as his hand is tugging up the other pant-leg past Adam's raised knee. 

 

"Look at you." He says, less to Adam and himself and more of a statement. So damn pretty. Poor thing doesn't even know how pretty and that's the tragedy.

 

He'd let the trousers fall behind him, probably sliding off the bed on their own. He doesn't displace any of his own clothes, even his gold clip kept his tie snugly in place.

He turns to look at Adam's legs. Was it narcissistic to find them beautiful? He focuses on the seams and abstractly puzzle-pieced junctions of his knee. He hooks his thumb under it, other fingers pressing, sliding- his eyes follow. All the way to the demarcation at Adam's hip. Covered by his briefs and so- he tugs the hem up at first, to look. The skin was still red. It would be for a little while yet, he surmised.

Then he pulls down- to get a look from the other end, sliding the band down, fighting the bed at first until he brings a knee in to carefully slide under his hips- lifting him off of it and allowing him to pull those down easier. 

He gives Adam's leg an appreciative squeeze along with a glance when it looks like the other wanted to speak. It was barely a whisper of a noise, but it was there. He doesn't look expectant for it's culmination; Instead finishes what he'd been doing- stripping him until it was just skin- synthetic or otherwise. 

He moves a hand to rest flat over one of Adam's bandages near his shoulder. He remembered seeing that one put on the first time. He'd caught his breath behind his teeth when he watched the scalpel excise just a little too far and there was just a little more blood than there should have been. He squeezes thoughtfully. Gently. Brows curling into just that much of a frown as his hand slid back over Adam's throat- down. His fingers splayed, tips pausing over the ports that capped off the mounts bracing his chest. Another repair. The poor kid had been torn apart. He'd make sure at least that wouldn't happen again. The way it did. 

He checks Adam's face subtly before doing the same to his other leg. Adam lets him. His eyes are closing. But he does manage a quiet but fond 'boss.' David's eyes flicker playful as Adam let his legs fall wider; It almost makes him chuckle.

But he leans forward, bracing himself over the other to bump their heads together again before turning to give him a kiss on the ear. 

 

"Yeah." He answers what was certainly not a question. "I'm here."

 

He's sliding off the bed right after- but his hands catch on Adam's knees and he's pulling him with him, all the way to the edge.  
He reaches past him to the trinket he'd procured earlier with his aug-hand, returning it- now glazed satiny, between them.

He gives Adam a look, holding his dry hand out. He wiggles his fingers beckoning, eyes signaling for him to give him his hands. If granted, he'd circle them back around his wrists and pin them overhead, using them to brace himself over Adam as he'd proceed to massage between his legs.

Carefully. Of course. Damaged tissue everywhere. He would feel terrible for tearing anything; Making him bleed any more than had already been necessary.

"Hm." He grunted fondly, letting his middle finger catch and push into him. His eyes traced up, down and back up, probably maddeningly slow. 

His hand took it's time. Out and back in- slow- but deep. He'd add another finger soon after, eyes flickering to Adam's in search of anything he might see or hear.

And David had, in fact, taken note of what Adam liked. The slight lift of his chin and the subtle curve his brow. He'd be sure to revisit that.

For now, he was poised over him, leonine and possessive; Adam's body caught between two points. 

He's focused on that handsome face as his hand works. He'd added a third finger a few moments ago and leans down, still braced on Adam's wrists to put his mouth on his chest. Meanwhile he presses his hand in deeper, letting him think about it for a few moments. He tilts his hand, evidently some sort of an expert and fucks Adam shallow up to his knuckles.

He hums, lips pausing as he tastes iron and copper on his chest. Blood? Or aug. Maybe it's both. He wondered if it might have been jarring to look into his own reflection- expecting the old picture but seeing something completely different. 

Must have been why the poor kid broke it. It had been intentional after all.

He feels for another, lingers, plants a kiss as his hand works against him. He adds his fourth finger as he'd leaned up to bury against Adam's neck. At first he's kissing that to. 

But he's compelled to bring out his own fangs, scraping carefully at his throat. Just a nick or two, here and there- and he'd catch the corner of his jaw. His lips would drift closer to his ear again.

 

"God, Adam. You're beautiful." He'd mutter low- just for him. 

"Now I want you to make some more of those pretty noises for me, huh?" He says evenly, curling his fingers inside him slowly, putting pressure upwards and dragging softly.

"More of that."

Adam's legs tremble at the motion and his back lifts slightly from the bed, tailed by a reserved moan. He bits his lips quickly, apparently embarrassed. David looks almost pleased with himself, a half-lidded gaze from under his brows up at his 'prey' and he's keen on Adam's movement underneath him. No wonder Adam might feel a little under the microscope. David's attention was rather intense.

He presses his lips to Adam's neck at this and gives his wrists a squeeze as he feels the joints flex, reminding him of where they were. 

"Good." He croons quietly into his ear, hearing an airy moan and- well, yeah, he fucking loves that- pressing the sides of their heads together. "Good boy..."

And he slowly loosens his grip on Adam's wrists, fingers plying over his- Adam's- arms and comes to rest light over his throat.

"That's it." He whispers quiet as Adam had, likely accidentally, obeyed. He grins into the side of his neck and- Adam lifts under him and he gently fights against him by pressing down with the hand over his throat, teeth finding his ear while his other hand coaxes more out of him.  
He pulls his fingers out briefly to give Adam's cock a stroke, checking it's current state and- "You're making a mess." He lulls observantly before he's sliding his hand back down, fingers slowly parting him again. "Yeah. Good boy." It was clear Adam needed the praise. He presses up against any touch. His breath hitches adorably when David rolls the tips of his fingers inside him.

He lingers for a few more moments before he's pulling away again, hooking a hand carefully under Adam's thigh, another at his ankle and he's urging him over onto his belly. 

He wouldn't give him more than a few moments before he's pressing his weight down over him, natural hand pressing insistently- searchingly- to his back, tracing the aug there too. He hums near Adam's ear again, lips brushing, as his hand slid around, under his chest and hugs him tight.

Synthetic knuckles brushed against Adam between them as David guided himself against him, distractedly slow, his attention up front, before he'd finally press into him. He'd linger another moment, before sliding against him until their hips were flush. 

His hand would move to Adam's hip and give it a steady pull, as if to coax him to take another inch or two before he rolls his hips. "There you go." He reassures. "Good boy."

David watches the way Adam had looked between them. The way he flushed, dropped his head back down and breathed.

The pleasure here was solely in seeing him pleased. Adam had always been so taciturn- David didn't realize how much of a gift the un-ordinary of Adam was until he heard and saw it. 

He hooks his natural hand over Adam's opposite shoulder, keeping his lips near to his ear for the purpose of talking to him; Adam did seem to like that. Good. Sarif was good at talking.

He's agonizingly slow once he's inside him. The purpose wasn't the act itself. It was more. He intended to make him feel. Good. About himself. This. 

David grins, fingers splaying over the half-natural hip. The half natural muscles flexing under his touch as Adam parted his legs. He hums appreciatively. "Keep those gorgeous legs spread for me, Adam." He croons, squeezing his back to his chest with a tightening hug as he moved.

His other hand brushed appraisingly over Adam's thigh, palm pressing insistently after a moment to spread his leg further. He's chuckling through his nose near Adam's ear- enchanted. 

"God. Let me show you- how good you look." He rumbled, his grip on his front tightening, other hand sliding under Adam's waist and pulling up. Forcing him to his feet at the edge of the bed despite his ravishing.  
"There you go. Stand up for me. Good." He turns him a fraction, natural hand lifting from shoulder to jaw as he urges Adam's attention to the fragmented reflection nearby. It was still serviceable. It'd get the point across. 

David's fingers were tight on him but not fixed. He wants him to look. Wants him to want to. Go on. Be curious. 

He keeps their heads together, briefly looking at Adam through their reflection before simply turning his attention sideways and leaving the reflected world for just Adam to enjoy. 

"Broken reflection's just as beautiful, isn't it."

He'd move against him- into him- and eventually let his jaw go in favour of petting down his front. The front of his throat, chest; Fingertips pressing gently into his ribs before finding his neck again. 

David kisses his shoulder and mutters into it. "Don't you see it? Stunning. Always were- nothing's changed." He grins against the skin over his shoulder. Adam seems to almost want to disagree, brows furrowing just slightly but he only manages a velvety moan instead. Yeah, good.

"My handsome kid. Legs not gonna give out on you, are they?" He teases, other hand curling over a hip and snakes down between his thighs, holding him tight as he fucked him almost ponderously- dreamily. 

David laughs quietly. "It's not fair is it?" He'd give him a break, inching him to the corner of the bed again and moves to push him back down, leaning back over him. His fingers raise, the tops of them coaxing Adam's view back to the mirror by his chin. 

 

"There's my good boy."

 

He buried himself into Adam, above and below, fingers tracing any lines of interest. Adam's attention is on the mirror. Good. He rewards him with satiny stroke over his head and a hum into his ear.

He mutters near-silent praise into his ear the entire time. You're doing so well. What a pretty noise. What a gorgeous face. Look at you.

David thought he could probably finish, and easily- but this wasn't about him. It was an afterthought and then soon forgotten in favour of getting his Adam content.

Hopefully give him some level of bliss after which David might not feel so terrible leaving him to himself again. Clear the misty trails through the apartment with a gently burning sunshine. 

 

He grins into the side of his pretty head- feeling him border the edge- Good. "That's it." He breathes, hands sliding down Adam's arms, to his wrists, bringing them a little closer and pinning them back to the sheets. 

His fingers slide around those hands, puzzling neatly between gilded knuckles and squeezing fondly.

"Good boy... Come for me. There you go." He croons, pressing his lips to Adam's temple, pressing the kiss keenly enough to urge that pretty head into the mattress. Adam... does. 

He'd feel for Adam's body to come down from whatever high- linger in and on him for a few long moments more. His lips curling softly against his ear again. He almost nibbles- but it's gentler than that.

Pauses; Before bumping his forehead into the side of Adam's head affectionately as he finally pulls away, his weight momentarily settled harder on Adam's wrists as he heaves himself up.

He sighs, reaching into his jacket and finding a handkerchief. First he gives it a casual stroke over Adam, brushing up any oil- before he's passing it contemplatively over his hands- then each individual finger- then down. Puts himself and it away after a neat folding.

He hums thoughtfully. Adam was already moving further onto the bed, movements more relaxed. Looser already. He sighs.

 

"Now... Will ya get some rest for me?" He grins at the other, reaching out to give him a playful ruffle through his hair, stroking his fingers through it from front to back.  
"Yeah.."

He was already thinking about the kitchen. It's not like he couldn't lock the door on his way out. Adam could sleep while he brushed up the glass and ... well, took care of that. He'd have someone come get the broken mirror tomorrow..

"Things are going to get better. You'll see. I'm not gonna let anything happen again." A vague statement. Even David wasn't quite sure what he meant when he said 'anything.' All he knew was he wanted his poor Adam to be happy. He deserved that much... But it was a tough promise to keep when even you weren't sure what could happen in such tumultuous times.

 

"Things will be okay."

 

Adam nods at this and it's reassuring. David haphazardly pulls a corner of the duvet up and over Adam's legs before turning away. He's surprised to hear a quiet 'goodnight, Sarif' and grins lightly as he heads for the kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you want me to rewrite/revise any of the later chapters.
> 
> Chapter name comes from one of my favourite proverbs. "Strike the table and the scissors will answer." People will show you who they really are.


End file.
